The order echoed through the Lunar Council chamber like a sentence carved into fate itself.
“Containment has failed.”
For a long moment, no one moved.
Not because they lacked authority.
But because authority itself had just stopped behaving the way it was supposed to.
The sigils across the chamber floor flickered in uneven pulses, red light crawling through ancient lunar scripts that had once been used to bind rogue Alpha threats and fractured bloodlines. Now, those same systems were struggling to categorize what they were witnessing.
Seraphine Vale stood at the center of it all, her expression calm, but her stillness no longer felt like confidence. It felt like calculation under strain.
Archivist Elara Thorn’s hands hovered over the memory interface stone, her voice barely audible.
